


Affection

by AGayMessTBH



Category: Uta no Prince-sama, UtaPri
Genre: Fluffy, Hugs, Let them be Soft, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Nothing explicit but it’s mentioned so thought I’d tag it, Past Abuse, Tooth Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGayMessTBH/pseuds/AGayMessTBH
Summary: Masato Hijirikawa never outwardly showed affection.





	Affection

Masato never showed affection.

He refused embraces from people he didn’t know and trust completely. His father felt such fleeting things as physical affection were nothing more than a distraction, and Masato needed instead to focus.

Ren, however, relished in physical affection. Casually laying an arm across someone’s shoulder, gently running his hands through people’s hair, reciprocating Natsuki’s never ending supply of hugs. 

It made sense Ren would be the one to help break down Masato’s walls. The two had never been shy as children, holding hands as they ran through the hallways of fancy hotels. Wrestling with each other at the pond, Ren splashing Masato to catch his attention. Hugging each other good bye from their latest adventure, though they didn’t know it would be for the last time. Now Ren was loose and carefree with his affection, seeking attention from others to make up for the lack of attention from his father; and Masato bottled it up, fearing rejection from his friends, the way his father had rejected him. 

But now, it was quiet. The moon was high in the sky, and Ren had just come back from a photoshoot. There was left over mascara he couldn’t completely scrub off smudged under his eyes, and Masato was filled with such warmth at seeing Ren less than perfect. At seeing the real him, not the play-boy facade he put up to hide beneath, but the Ren Jinguji who hated chocolate and listened to his mother’s quiet lullaby on a cassette tape when life became too much to handle. Maybe it was because it was late, maybe it was because Ranmaru was out with Ai, maybe it was the snow softly piling outside their window, and maybe it was because Masato had just received an ominous call from his father, but Masato was filled with an overwhelming need to release the emotions he was bottling up. So he stood and moved toward Ren, who was at this point shuffling out of his jacket, and wrapped his arms around Ren’s middle, his cheek pressed against the back of Ren’s neck. The skin there was cold, and it cooled some of the heat on Masato’s face.

But then Ren began to shift, and panic settled into Masato’s stomach. What if Ren pushed him away again? What if they went back to fighting like they had been just months before? What if he slapped him? Just like his father did, punishing him for needing comfort after his Grandfather had died.

“Stop,” Masato whispered, voice shaking slightly. 

Ren dutifully froze.

“I’m sorry I just need a minute.”

And so they stood there in silence, as Masato soaked in everything about the embrace. The coolness of Ren’s neck juxtaposed with the warmth of his back. The long blonde hairs that tickled his face. The rhythm of Ren’s breathing. The rhythm of Ren’s heart, and how it was an easy legato compared to the staccato of Masato’s own heart. 

“Hijirikawa, let me take off my jacket really quick, I’m getting warm.” A light chuckle made Ren’s torso bounce. 

Masato released him, and Ren quickly hung up his jacket, and turned around to face the pianist. He dutifully opened his arms, and allowed Masato to fall into them. The stress of everything Masato had pushed down for years suddenly resurfaced and he just broke.

Broke because he hadn’t been held like this since his mother had died.

Broke because this was Ren, and they hadn’t hugged since they were ten.

Broke because his Grandfather had died, and Masato never had the chance to thank him for letting him into Saotome Academy, for teaching him piano, and to tell him that he loved him.

Broke because he hadn’t been rejected. Ren had welcomed him with open arms. Ren, who was now tracing patterns into Masato’s back, his nose tickling Masato’s scalp, and telling him that everything was okay, didn’t push him away.

And for once, Masato believed him. He believed the nonsense coming out of Ren’s mouth, because the way he said it was so sincere. 

A warm pit formed in Masato’s stomach, but it wasn’t panic—no, it was fondness. It was as if Masato was soaking in the sun’s last rays of the evening before the night came. That’s when he realized that he didn’t hate or simply tolerate Ren Jinguji, in fact it was quite the opposite, he loved him.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” Masato admitted. He had never been this vulnerable before. He hated the way his head started to hurt, and his sinuses welled. 

Ren merely hummed, and lead them to the bottom bunk. He let Masato get situated before laying down beside him, connecting their hands together. 

“Is this alright?” Ren asked cautiously.

Masato nodded, and before long the pair had fallen asleep.

When Ranmaru returned that night, he noticed the pair curled next to each other. He rolled his eyes, and pulled a blanket over them. 

It wasn’t an immediate change. Masato was still uncomfortable when Natsuki clung to him, but he no longer shoved him off. He let Tokiya put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and allowed Otoya to hold his hand when he pulled Masato outside to play soccer. He let Syo paint his nails a deep blue, and let Cecil show him a dance from Agnopolis. He let Haruka and Tomochika put different braids into his hair when they were absent mindedly brainstorming lyrics and melodies. 

And Masato let Ren pull him into hugs, when everything was just too much. Steal a kiss in the morning before they went their separate ways for jobs. He let Ren tease him and flirt with him, and be a nuisance to him. He let Ren play him songs on his sax, and teach him how to play darts.

It wasn’t an immediate change, but slowly he allowed himself to share soft smiles and laughs with everyone. He composed little melodies on the piano that reminded him of his bandmates. He wrote words that reminded him of his friends into poems and on scraps of paper and on giant scrolls. Words like safe, and warm, and home. Masato allowed himself to feel at home. Part of him would always be more reserved than the rest of STARISH, but now he knew they wouldn’t reject him, and now he knew that he had his own way of showing everyone he cared, just as they had different ways of showing him.

It wasn’t an immediate change but slowly Masato’s walls started to crack and he finally understood that affection wasn’t a distraction. And it wasn’t always grand, sometimes it was as simple as Ranmaru covering him and Ren with a blanket, and Haruka‘s pre-live show high fives, or Mai calling him excitedly after learning her first song on piano.

Affection, to Masato, is something that warms his heart little by little until it is full.

And Masato’s heart is full.


End file.
